


Backfired

by IDontWannaWrestle (XLibris)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Decon Smut, Digital Manipulation/Cover, Episode: s06e12 One Son, F/M, Missing Scene, Ugly Grey Dress fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28667430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XLibris/pseuds/IDontWannaWrestle
Summary: Scully puts on the dress that Diana provided after the shower in One Son.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	Backfired

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Karina & Kyouryokusenshi for the beta assistance. 
> 
> This is a fantasy...err... I mean fic that I've wanted to see written for quite some time so I've had a go, despite my promise not to attempt to butcher any more fanfic. Anyone who'd like to do a complete rewrite has my blessing LOL

-X-

"They've burned our clothes." 

Scully gestured to the drab, grey jersey-cotton shift that had been left for her to change into once the last of the medical team had packed up and left. 

Mulder habitually responded to awkward situations with a droll remark, and he didn't disappoint. 

"Hey... I heard gray is the new black," he quipped.

"Mulder, this stinks, and not just because I think that woman is a... well, I think you know what I think that woman is."

"No. Actually, you hide your feelings very well." Mulder's sarcasm was greeted with a look that could kill. 

She reached out and violently yanked the grey monstrosity off the hanger, turning her back to Mulder. Since her partner had just seen her in all her glory she no longer cared that she would be undressing in front of him. It wasn't like her modesty mattered anymore, and she wanted him to think that Diana's little decontamination stunt didn't rattle her as much as it did as she yanked the top of the white scrubs off and replaced it with the soft grey jersey. She pulled the shapeless dress down over her hips and pulled down the lower half of the cotton scrubs she'd been wearing since the decontamination shower she'd been forced to take with her partner. 

"Of course she wouldn't have left me any underwear," she muttered to herself, as she double-checked the lockers and the floor around her. The dress felt rather snug, and she was sure it didn't cover as much as she'd like. Finding nothing to pull on underneath it, she turned towards what passed as a full-length mirror on the wall to the left of her partner. She was mortified. Even the dull reflection couldn't hide the fact that the fabric thinned as it stretched over the curves of her body, rendering her virtually naked. 

After the day she'd had her frustration had now reached explosive levels. As she saw it she only had two options: break down and cry or lash out in anger. She chose the latter.

"Look at this dress, Mulder!" 

Oh, Mulder was definitely looking. The knit fabric hugged her curves, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her pert breasts appeared to be cradled lovingly by the fabric, a prominent nipple rising from the center of each darkened areola. She stood, hands-on-hips, glaring at him, following his eyes as he looked her up and down. 

"She didn't even give me any underwear, Mulder", she complained. "How am I supposed to go out in public looking like this?" 

Mulder ignored the fact that 'she' was blamed rather than 'they'. He gently tried to reassure her. "It looks perfectly fine to me, Scully. We can get a cab straight home if you’d like."

Scully was starting to grow weary of the seemingly endless setbacks of the day. She looked defeated as she bowed her head. It had been a hell of a day. First with the drama of CGB Spender, followed by the shocking appearance of Cassandra Spender at Mulder's door demanding that he shoot her, leading to Fowley's attempt to humiliate her through the harsh and unnecessary decontamination procedure. And Mulder had hardly been supportive. It seemed that whenever Diana Fowley was around he forgot she existed.

Mulder could read the weariness on her face. He'd been trying his hardest to remain neutral in whatever this issue was that Scully had with his former lover, meaning he'd been distant with both of them. He wasn't interested in rekindling things with Diana and thought that after his declaration in the hallway outside his apartment last summer and his subsequent confession after his Bermuda Triangle rescue, Scully wouldn't have any reason to think he had feelings for anyone other than her. It had been a difficult time for both of them. The loss of the X-Files had been hard on both of them. AD Kersh had been giving them the worst possible assignments and instead of falling back on their once easy banter to get through each day they'd been bickering and distant. 

He stepped towards her, using that deep, husky voice that was like a very gentle aural caress to softly speak her name. He touched below her chin, causing her to look up at him in response. "Scully you could wear a burlap sack and look beautiful. Don't worry about the dress."

Her nipples had hardened purely from his proximity and the way he said her name. She blushed and looked down, noting the shadow of coarse hair covering her mons through the dress, embarrassed to see some of the coarse reddish-brown hairs had actually forced their way through the sheerness of the stretched fabric. 

"It's not the lack of fashion that's the problem, Mulder. It's indecent. I can't even get into a taxi dressed like this, how could I get from the taxi to my front door?"

Tears of frustration threatened as she felt Mulder's taut body come up against her own, both hard and soft. His hands cupped her face, prepared to wipe away any errant tears. She closed her eyes, not wanting to acknowledge his closeness or the excitement it caused her.

"Look at me, Scully".

Scully reluctantly raised her eyes to see his mouth descending towards hers. His lips were both tentative and hungry as they clashed with hers. Loving and scolding. Happy and sad. Strong and weak. This man was a walking contradiction.

Time stopped as they stood there, lips and tongues silently speaking all the truths they hadn't dared say aloud. Mulder broke the kiss as he lifted her up. The skirt rode up her thighs as her legs secured her position.

"You're not the only one that this dress is making indecent, Scully," he murmured before almost denting the nearest institution-grey locker with her behind. He dove back into the kiss with an increasing passion and with urgency. As the locker took some of her weight and her arms wound around his neck he was able to put his hands to better use, easing the fabric over her thighs and buttocks, massaging her in time with the movements of his mouth. 

"Fuck, Scully," he exhaled as his right hand reached down to feel the heat and moisture emanating from her center. His fingers couldn't resist the moist temptation as a first, then a second one made their way inside her. At first, the movement was erratic and desperate until they honed in on that rough patch of skin on the front wall of her pussy. Her arms clung tightly around his neck as she held on for the ride, overwhelmed by the forgotten pleasure-pain of this act. 

Although he was still fully clad in the white scrubs they'd been issued for their medical check, Mulder's cock strained towards her clit like a compass pointing north. He changed the angle he held her at slightly so that the head of his cotton-clad cock rubbed against her naked clit as he pumped his fingers furiously. It wasn't enough. He hoisted her higher, his mouth rooting for, then roughly clasping her left breast through the thin fabric. It felt primal as he hungrily lathed and bit first her left nipple then her right.

Every nerve in her body fired off sensations at once. This was Mulder, the man she loved, the man who'd stimulated her intellectually and gatecrashed her sexual fantasies for almost as long as she'd known him. The partner she'd suppressed her desire towards for years now. For a moment she even forgot what she was mad at him for. Then it came back to her. Diana Fucking Fowley.

"Stop!" she said, causing Mulder to groan unbidden and become completely still, unable to disguise his panic face. 

"Get those pants off!" she commanded to his obvious relief. He couldn't act fast enough in case she changed her mind. He lowered her to the ground and hastily pushed his scrubs down to this ankles, stepping out of each leg and kicking them away. 

Scully decided that it was her turn to take charge. She'd have him asking 'Diana who?' by the time she was done with him. She ordered him to remove his shirt before pushing him back until his legs hit the end of a bench seat. "Now sit," she instructed.

Her mouth almost visibly watered as she watched his muscles ripple as his naked body, glistening with sweat, reclined on the seat, his eyes never leaving hers. His cock stood tall and proud from a nest of trim, chestnut-coloured hair, waiting for her next instruction.

Scully hoisted the drab garment back up and straddled Mulder's lap, thrusting gently to indicate that he should move back further. Once she got him into position, she hovered above him, teasing for a brief moment before sinking down onto his straining erection. She went slowly, wanting to cherish every sensation as she took in every inch of him. Once he was sheathed inside her she took advantage of their level gaze to look him directly in the eye, her ice blue now meeting an intense shade of green.

"I will not allow that woman to humiliate me, Mulder," she stated. As if reassuring herself, she continued, "I'm too strong for that." 

In acknowledgment of the truth of her assertion, he kissed the strong, beautiful woman stretched around him, hard.

"Forget her, Scully," he urged, his mouth once again trying to latch on to a passing nipple as they slowly began a rhythmic rise and fall. His pelvis bucked against her whenever she came down to meet him. His hands reached back to grasp her hips to intensify the angle and thrust. Her own hands were examining the tautness of the skin over his too-often-wounded heart. She kissed him again before leaning back to reach her right hand down, heightening the sensation to her clit

The ancient rhythm pulsed through them as their bodies and souls united on this predetermined path, their eternal quest. The only sensation was from the primal friction of their joining. It seemed only fitting that they should both come at the exact same moment, their souls fragmenting and reassembling in a burst of starlight, the creation of a new universe.

They clung to each other in the afterglow, foreheads touching, wanting to remain as one forever. Neither of them wanted to break the spell and speak out loud, instead letting their non-verbal communication say everything they needed. For that short time, they had become one in their own universe; nothing else existed. 

Eventually, Scully spoke softly into Mulder's neck as she remained clinging to him. "I still can't wear this dress."

Mulder agreed as he leaned back to admire the way the sheer fabric stretched over her, smoothing it over her curves with his hands. "Not in public, no. But do you think we can take it with us?"

Scully mirrored his smile as she confidently lifted the dress over her head. He ducked as she threw the balled-up garment at him before she reached for the white medical scrubs she was wearing earlier. 

-X-

Nearby, in the central observation room, a shocked Diana Fowley scowled in disbelief that her plan to humiliate and eliminate her competition for Agent Mulder had backfired.


End file.
